Mrs. Daisy


Image courtesy of: ajss


Mrs. Daisy, the screen brings no good ones,

a messenger leaving a notebook of sole yearnings,

            scraped by thorns of abandonment.

Mrs. Daisy, curtains were being pushed opened

            towards the dawn of a start-

LIES! I didn´t see the sun´s release, shining, Mrs. Daisy,

a temporary eclipsing of my undyingly decaying shining.


Oh, Mrs. Daisy, guess I don´t fit my sex´s conventions.

            I´m unable to keep up with a constellation of fashion,

Mr. Daisy!

            It became a swathed murmur of fire under water.

Mrs. Daisy, I don´t see the sun´s release,

I´ve held to morning´s light too long.

Why won´t I let it go? For the sake of mourning?

I´ve lost a beating in the darkness of this yearning.


Dear Mrs. Daisy, my name is patience, of eternal desire.

I walk through this turn up hallways, under a blemished sky,

holding the bright darkness of a feeble soul,

sack of stones and bones,

            buried under a hole, deep with endless thwart,

Mrs. Daisy.


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